Careful
by Kathryn Claire O'Connor
Summary: #1 in my "Care for You" trilogy. Takes place during "The Aftermath." What could have happened after the scene between Reid and Elle that we saw. Rated for the slightest implications of sex. Mention of Hotch/JJ.


A man always has two reasons for doing something – a good reason and a real reason. ~ J.P. Morgan

* * *

October 15, 2006

Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid was not about to admit to himself the real reason why he was doing this. She was his teammate, and that was reason enough. And it was a very good reason, at that.

His inner, mental war as settled as it was going to get, Spencer knocked six times, rapidly and in a rhythm. Elle looked through the peephole in her hotel door before easing said door open.

"Hey," he grinned softly, hoping that the hints of displeasure in her face at his appearing at her door were only in his imagination.

"Hi."

A beat-long pause and then he asked the question that had been bugging him throughout the day. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Now that was a stupid question, and it wasn't just a genius who would consider it as such, either. They both knew that. He shrugged, shouldering his way into her apartment for two reasons: one he knew that she wouldn't be inviting him in on her own. Two: what he wanted to talk about wasn't exactly the stuff of a conversation that he wanted to have while standing in the hallway.

She mumbled something about his barging in, then turned and grabbed some of the alcohol from off of the counter. Spencer looked at her in surprise.

"You wanna check my ID?" she asked with a smirk.

"I thought maybe you might want to talk." Spencer offered, leaning against the edge of the room's dresser.

Elle scoffed. "Don't go all profiler on me."

"El," Spencer said gently, deciding to cut to the chase. "You got shot in your own home and then came back to the BAU like nothing even happened." He tried to choose his words carefully. "Thinking that you might want to talk isn't profiling," he grinned softly. "It's Psych 101."

She just glared at him over the rim of her glass, her eyes dark in ways that had nothing to do with their color.

Spencer wasn't used to this, or comfortable with it, this trying to get people to open up to him, talk, to him. It was why he didn't do interrogations as often as the others. But to him, Elle Greenaway was different. Special.

So he let himself sound as pitiful as he felt as he tried again. "Please?"

Elle watched him for a second, then put down her glass and held up another bottle, silently offering a sort of trade. He drank while she talked, or they both knew that she wouldn't talk at all. With a frown and an internal sigh, Spencer pushed away from the dresser and sat down at the table across from her. He poured himself a drink and he began to talk.

He listened to what little she had to say, and then reminded her gently, caringly, "El, he's dead. You're right here. We won."

She smiled for the first time at his attempt to comfort her, but it was a sad sort of smile that showed just how broken she truly was. Something inside of Spencer broke a little at that smile.

"Then here's to winning." Elle offered raising her glass.

Spence nodded and they drank. Elle took a second to stare at the ice that remained in her glass, but when her gaze turned back to his once again, her eyes had returned to that horrible darkness, and Spencer got the feeling that even though she was alive, she was more lost then she had ever been in her life.

Apparently, staring into her empty glass cup had given her one more thought, though, because she asked him, almost introspectively, "Why does winning feel so lousy?"

Spencer blinked in surprise, wondering if she had known that the same thought had just surfaced in his mind.

After a second, he shrugged, murmuring, "I don't know, El."

Elle raised her eyebrows. "The resident genius is admitting to a lack of knowledge?"

"I know…" Spencer paused, once again trying to choose his words carefully. "I know what it's like to be afraid of this. Of this job, of the things that we see on a day to day basis, of loosing ourselves – maybe even our minds or lives – to the madness that we choose to surround ourselves with every day. I know what it's like to be afraid of the world that we live in. Even afraid to go to sleep, because that's when the nightmares come and find you. So actually, I have plenty of knowledge on the subject."

Her eyes were filled with what could nearly be described as agony or desperation as she asked softly, "Do you know what to do when the nightmares won't go away even when you're awake? Even in broad daylight at noon when the birds are singing?"

It startled Spencer that she was letting her guard down so completely, but his answer was the first thing that came to his mind. "You reach out for help from your family and loved ones. They'll fight the demons with you."

Elle smirked down at her cup. "My father's dead, my mother will not speak to me under any circumstances – I won't even both with the fact that she moved back to Cuba. The same junk that has cut me off from my mom – my choice to be in the FBI – has also turned the rest of my family away from me."

"Even your siblings?"

She shook her head. "I don't have any." She laughed dryly, "Being an only child really stinks."

"I know that too," Spencer said with a grin.

She nodded. "Yeah, you do."

"But what about those loved ones that I mentioned?"

Elle looked at him in confusion. "It's the same thing, Reid."

"No, it's not." Spencer shook his head. "I was thinking about the team when I said that."

Elle rolled her eyes. "Yeah, the team. The team with their reporting to Strauss, and their therapists, and all that other fun trash that I really don't need, despite what they may think."

"El, we're not like that, and you know it." Spencer was trying not to let himself be hurt by her words. "We want to help you in any way that we can." His tone became even gentler. "I want to help you."

He could tell that the thought hadn't run through her filter before she said it when she stated quickly, "Yeah, but you're different from them."

Her eyes widened as she realized her words, but he asked the question anyway over the noise of his suddenly pounding heart, deciding to see where she would let the remark go. "'Different' in a good way or a bad way?"

"A - A good one."

She was stammering, and for Elle that just was not normal, but now he had to know how she felt about him, if she returned his feelings for her. He tried to keep his tone conversational as he asked, "How so?"

She swallowed, nervous now, and her previous turmoil was close to forgotten. She said, staring into her glass again, "I… You're just different. I feel like we're closer somehow. Am I wrong; is that stupid?"

"I would like to think the same thing," Spencer admitted with a growing smile. "So, no, it's not stupid at all."

"What do you mean?" Elle asked, looking back up at him in surprise.

"Elle," Spencer paused before admitting, "I'm kind of in love with you."

Her eyes widened. "I… I… I don't know what to say."

"You don't feel the same way." Spencer deduced flatly, shutting his expression down.

"No," Elle rushed on. "No, I do! It's just… I never knew that you felt the same way."

Spencer laughed in relief, and at the two of them. "You know, for me being a genius, and for both of us being profilers, we sure are clueless."

Elle grinned – and it was a real and happy smile this time – before getting up out of her seat and coming to stand in front of him. "Well, we're not anymore."

Spencer drew her down into his lap and kissed her before agreeing, "No, not anymore."

Feeling daring, and perhaps overly confident, Spencer stood up with her in his arms. She yelped and clung to his neck as he carried her over to the bed.

"Spencer," she warned, knowing what he had in mind. "JJ's in the room right next to us."

"Correction," Spencer said with a smirk. "JJ is with _Hotch _in the room next to us."

Again, Elle's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"We'll still have to be careful." Elle decided. "We can't just drop the fact that we're in a relationship on the BAU."

"I know that, El; I'm the genius here, remember? But if I care for you, there's no way that I'm going to let our jobs get in the way."

"Agreed." Elle put her arms around him and started kissing him again.

* * *

**I realize that once again I have written a trilogy out of order, but that's just how it happened, since "Care" was originally supposed to be a stand-alone anyway. Reviews equal, love, unicorns, and rainbows, besides the fact that they make my day! Thanks!:)**


End file.
